


You Must be a Boy with Bones like that

by Showtime (Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson)



Category: Chicago Blackhawks - Fandom, Hockey RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Trans, Drunk Sex, M/M, Sex, Trans Male Character, Trans Man Vaginal Sex, Trans Patrick Kane
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-07 15:18:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5461190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson/pseuds/Showtime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drunken loneliness can bring people together, and it definitely brings Patrick and Jonathan together more than they thought it would.</p><p>But neither Jonathan nor Patrick were ready for the consequences, nor the responsibilities that a drunken night would bring them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _A **massive** thank you to [leyley09](http://archiveofourown.org/users/leyley09/pseuds/leyley09) for being the beta for this story (and pointing out some of my seriously bad writing flaws that I've needed to fix for years!)._
> 
> _If you're looking for a cutesy JonnyKaner fix, I highly recommend her story[While I Follow Like Thread](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5243708). It's hilarious and adorably cute and fluffy at the same time (and her descriptions kill my heart)._
> 
> _Again, **thank you** , you are a wondrous author; and thank you so much for guiding me around the Blackhawks fandom!_

**The Blackhawks have won the 2015 Stanley Cup! Patrick Kane has made the overtime goal, securing their away win!**

Patrick lifted his stick into the air, smile wide as he saw Jonathan shooting towards him across the ice. Jonathan lifted the smaller man in his arms, like he weighed nothing, spinning him around with a joyous yell. The rest of the team shot over, all of them patting Patrick’s back as he laughed in Jonathan’s arms.

They couldn’t believe it as everyone involved with their team came rushing onto the ice; Coach Q was the one to tug Kane’s helmet off, ruffling the right winger’s hair, followed by the rest of the coaching staff. His family was on the ice, and Patrick forced himself away to skate over, lifting one of his sisters into his arms, spinning her around before he threw himself into a group family hug.

He immediately skated back as the Cup was presented to Coach, who handed it to Jonny.

Patrick couldn’t stop himself beaming wide as Jonny lifted it high above his head, inviting the Hawks fans to scream at the top of their lungs, congratulating the team. It was handed to Hossa, who immediately began skating it around the rink. Then it was back, and being passed around the team. When it reached Patrick, he skated forward, out of the line of his team, and held it up high.

Everyone started screaming again, and Patrick skated backwards, smiling like an idiot as he passed it on to Scott.

Someone’s hand ruffled in his hair again, and he turned to grin at Sharpie before he shot off to celebrate with his family again.

Their words of celebration washed over him, and he slowly felt his grin become a fake one, plastered on his face. He merely hugged his family tightly, relishing in their grip before he skated back, posing for the photo of the team around the cup. Jonathan’s arm was tight around his waist, and Patrick wanted to let his eyes close, let himself relax into his friend’s arms and chest.

He could have, but then the photo was over and the team were skating off to change in the locker rooms. Patrick hurried off, followed by Scott and Corey.

His family would be almost straight off back to the airport – his parents had work and his sisters had their education and their own sports to get back to. A sigh escaped his lips as he realised just how little he saw his family since he had joined the Blackhawks, and tears welled up when he remembered his Grandfather. It still ate Patrick up inside that he wasn’t there during his Grandpops’ final days; it broke his heart that he would never get to embrace his Grandpops again, nor would he be there at Patrick’s games.

His mood soured. The sound of the team celebrating had Patrick glancing around, flinching away from their noise.

“Celebrations! I think Kaner should buy the first round.”  
“Uh, no, Kaner scored the final goal, he should be the one _we_ all buy drinks for.”  
“How about we flirt with the ladies and just get some free shots?”

“You guys can do whatever the hell you want. I’m not coming.”

“Don’t want another drunken assault charge?”

Patrick glared daggers at Brent. It was said in good humour, but the right winger couldn’t bring himself to smile. “Not in the mood. For your shit or for celebrating. I’m going back to the hotel, going to sleep, and then going straight back to Chicago in the morning.”

Everyone glanced around in silence as Patrick finished packing his stuff up, dragging his bags behind him out of the locker room. He chucked his game stuff into the bus, scowling at the floor as he tugged his other bag on his back.

He knew Seabs was right, really; they weren’t going to be welcome in the bars around here, and there was no doubt someone would get into a drunken bar fight – and knowing Patrick’s luck... it would be him.

Maybe another time, when he wasn’t so... depressed, he might have gone out and had a good time, but tonight, he just wanted to disappear from the face of the Earth. He should be out celebrating. He knew his team would be worried – heck, he could practically feel them worrying all the way out here, a good hundred yards from the back door that lead to the changing rooms – but he just wanted to be alone.

That was why he was stalking back to the hotel they all shared, a half-an-hour walk away.

Sure, they had the whole top floor of the hotel to themselves, and sure, they would wake him up when they all came back pissed out of their minds in the early hours of the morning, but Patrick was done caring.

Maybe if he wasn’t so bitter about the whole _I fell in love with my best friend and I **really** don’t trust myself around him drunk_ , he might have felt up to having a few drinks and then retreating back to the hotel.

But Patrick really wasn’t in the mood to make an arse of himself in front of everyone, to lose Jonny as a friend, and make a name for himself – _again_ – in the media.

Maybe ~~,~~ if he and Jonny had met in another life, in another realm, even in a different goddamn fucking country that wasn’t so homophobic, _maybe_ they might have had a chance.

But this was America, and who could ever be supportive of two gay hockey players?

xox

Patrick collapsed onto his bed, relaxing into the soft mattress with a sigh.

He’d showered for a good hour, changed into pajamas, and now... well, he could either read for a while, watch some television - _though it’s probably all porn channels by now_ \- or get drunk.

Getting drunk didn’t seem like the right thing to do, not when his mind was so hectic and his mood so... _down_ , so he stood and moved to his travel bag, grabbing the first book that came to hand.

“Well then, Mr. Stephen King, let’s see how good your writing really is.”

He had just sat back down on the bed, leant against the wall, when the door crashed open, making Patrick jump almost fully out of his skin. His head shot round to stare at Jonathan, leaning in the doorway with a frown.

Patrick could _smell_ the booze on the other man from across the room, and he wrinkled his nose.

“Jesus, Tazer; how much did you drink?”

“There were- they were selling,” he hiccupped, and haphazardly stumbled towards his bed. “There were double v-vodka and R-Red Bull shots for $1.50 each. I think I had a-about 20?”

“Jesus Christ, Jonny.” Patrick sighed and shut the book he had barely opened, standing to grab hold of Jonathan, almost dragging him through to the shower.

Jonathan merely laughed, giggled, and stumbled around, really not making the job any easier.

“Hey, hey Patrick.”

Patrick let out a quiet sigh, raising a brow as he propped Jonathan up against the wall, turning around to try and figure out how the shower worked.

“Noooooo no, don’t make me sober up. Come on, let’s raid the mini bar.”

Patrick shook his head, fiddling with the knobs to adjust the temperature. “We need to be on a plane in five hours, Toews; strip off, and get in the fucking shower.” His voice was a growl, making it firm that he wanted Jon in the shower before the end of the night.

“Someone’s mooooooooooody.” Jonathan laughed a little, sliding down the wall. “I know something that’ll cheer you up.”

“And what’s that.”

“Sex. Sexy sexy sex sex.”

“You’re so fucking annoying when you’re drunk, why didn’t I bunk with someone else?”

“I mean it, Pat-Patty! Sex makes everything better.”

“Sex isn’t really something I do.”

“Aw, poor Patty!”

Jonathan drunkenly hiccupped, and Patrick moved to try and get the tallerman to strip off, to no avail when he began fighting back.

“Only if we go in the bedroom and fool around.”

“Christ, Tazer, come the fuck _on_. You’re only going to bitch and moan tomorrow that I didn’t sober you up, and I might just punch your perfect teeth out your damn mouth if you do.”

“You think I have perfect teeth?”

Patrick froze for a second, before shaking his head and giving up, stalking back to the bedroom. “Sober up, and we can have this conversation.”

“I wanna have it now.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Patty, don’t walk away from me!” A loud crash followed the Captain’s words, and Patrick groaned, rubbing his temple as he headed back into the bathroom.

Jonathan was a mess on the floor, giggling and rocking back and forth slightly, grinning up at Patrick.

“Come on, let’s get drunk.”

 _Fuck it_ , Patrick thought as he turned the shower off and helped Jonathan to his feet. _What’s the worst that could happen?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings:
> 
> \- alcohol abuse / drunken behaviour  
> \- intoxication dub-con [consensual sex; it was advised I have this tag as a precaution]  
> \- female-to-male!Trans characters  
> \- female-to-male vaginal sex
> 
> All trigger warning will be added to the tags when I upload the next chapter, in an attempt not to give too much away.
> 
>  **Please** check the chapter summary at the start of each chapter to ensure that you will not be triggered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Thank you to leyley09 who, a) has once again corrected this hideous chapter up for me and thank you for reminding me that the Hawks should have gone straight back to Chicago with the cup - I feel like it's slightly too late to add it in - as I would have to change the first chapter around as well, and so, I have not had this in. Apologies, I promise some form of drunken Chicago party in the next chapter._

_Oh. So that’s the worst that can happen_.

Patrick hadn’t let Jonny drink anymore, managing to trick him into thinking the orange juice was mixed with alcohol – every time he argued it, Patrick just told him to take another sip and try it again.

Kane, on the other hand, had finished the small bottles of liquor in the small mini bar, and was on his bed, pretty much drunkenly blacked out.

It was then Jonny had started kissing him, and Patrick was much too drunk to care about what might happen in the morning, or what the others might say should they walk in – _not like that is likely, only Jonny and I have a key_.

Then Jonny had started undressing him, and Patrick barely had time to say, _wait, we should probably discuss something before you do that_ before his boxers had been pulled off, and Jonathan was staring at Patrick confused as anything, trying not to collapse as he swayed on his feet.

“Patrick..?”

“Look, okay, we’re both drunk, so, to put things in terms you understand: I will be having surgery, I’m getting a dick, don’t have it yet, still have a vagina. We can discuss it properly in the morning.”

 _If you remember; Christ, this could ruin my career_.

He was blushing hard as Jonny took a step back; trying to comprehend what was going on. Rejection was creeping under his skin, and Patrick remembered what happened in his first ever hockey team, memories forcing themselves to his mind before he could stop them.

Yet he found he didn’t need to worry; Jonny was on the bed quickly, lips pressing against Patrick’s, and Patrick gladly let his legs wrap tightly around Jonny’s waist. Their hips were rocking as they kept kissing, not caring that their sloppy moans were getting louder, not caring that they could probably heard across the top floor, not caring that they would probably be faced with some awkward questions the next morning.

 _Fuck it_ , Patrick didn’t even care if his secret got out, if he lost his fucking _career_ over this; he just relished how close he was to Jonny, grinding their hips together.

Patrick wasn’t sure if it was an hour or a couple of minutes later when his captain finally pulled back, drunkenly fumbling to line himself up to Patrick’s vagina... He didn’t even care about the pain, that Jonny might be slightly too rough. He didn’t care that it might cause problems; he didn’t fucking _care_.

He just moved his hips, head tilting back as he felt Jonny moving inside of him. He whined and wrapped his legs around the other male’s waist, eyes glazed with lust as he stared up, and groaning Jonny’s name.

“J-Jonny, I wanna... wanna...” He drifted off, pushing hard against Jonny’s arm as he did, trying to get him to roll over. It took Jonny a few seconds to process what Patrick wanted him to do, before he grunted and rolled over.

Patrick wasted no time in slowly moving his hips, grinding down over Jonny, groaning as he tilted his head back. Jonny’s hands were tight on his hips, guiding Patrick up and down. Patrick’s eyes opened slightly as Jonny shifted, his hands leaving the Patrick’s hips, before he yelled out, feeling Jonny driving up into him, slamming hard.

Pleasure was tilting Patrick’s already drunk mind, and he felt his body going limp, letting Jonny roll them over again. Suddenly, Jonny’s fingers were playing with his clit and Patrick found his hands clutching the pillows under his head, whining as his hips bucked upright. His breathing was getting shallow, heavy, and he whined.

Jonny’s lips were trailing down his neck, teeth clamping down here and there, tongue and lips moving to leave sweet bruises. The red marks were soft now, but they would be black and blue in the morning, leaving the others questioning who Patrick had pulled when he’d been in the hotel all night.

Both of their hips were moving a lot sloppier, and Patrick could feel Jonny throbbing inside of him. Patrick groaned, rocking his hips before he cried out. The feeling of Patrick cumming around him had Jonny groaning, and Patrick cried out at the feeling of the warmth flushing inside of him.

Jonny shifted to collapse next to Patrick, both of them sweaty, limp, and pretty damn satisfied.

Patrick, a damn sight more sober now, dared a glance ~~d~~ at Jonny. “Hey, uh... I know I should have told you, but Coach said it wasn’t necessary information to tell and... you’ve fallen asleep.”

A soft snore ~~d~~ followed Patrick’s words and the right winger rolled his eyes, shifting to get out of bed. He winced a little, noticing how sore he felt, before he stood up, slipping his boxers back on. He immediately moved into Jonny’s bed, slipping under the covers.

It took some time, but Patrick finally managed to ignore the worried thoughts coursing through his mind, and sleep claimed him.

xox

Patrick groaned at the light shining into his retinas. He glared at the sun, scowling as he shoved sunglasses on, hunching over to awkwardly shuffle towards the bus.

 _Fuck this. I’m buying painkillers the moment I can. **Fuck**_. _That’s not going to cause any more suspicions or anything._

Jonny had been confused the next morning, but understanding. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out that he and Patrick had slept together, but he didn’t seem to remember anything other than that. Patrick was so unbelievably grateful for that.

They’d gotten showered, dressed, and packed in silence, before joining their team in the conference room set up for the team’s breakfast.

Or rather, four other guys on the team, the rest of them trying to sleep as much of their hangovers off as they could before the long bus trip home.

Now, everyone was assembled and chucking their bags into the bus, mumbling at each other. Someone yelled at someone, and everyone groaned, lashing out at whoever it was yelling – _was that Brent? Asshole_.

Patrick scowled at the defenseman over his sunglasses as he shuffled onto the bus. He collapsed into a seat at the back, curling up against the window as he pulled the curtain across to block the sun out. He leant his forehead against the window, letting his eyes flick ~~~~closed.

Sleep. That was what he was going to do.

“UP AND AT ‘EM BOYS!”

Everyone groaned as Coach Q made his presence on the bus known, shifting around to try and stop the additional thudding in their heads.

“Kaner? How are you so hung over? You disappeared without even heading to the bar.”

“Tazer came back and introduced me to the mini bar.”

There were a few chuckles at the malice in the right winger’s voice, but it was all in jest.

“I’m gonna keep this short, because I’m proud of all of ya. Well _done_. We did it; the Blackhawks are Stanley Cup champions once again. Go home, have some time with your families. I’ll see you all in two months, back on the ice, ready to train.”

“Patrick?”

He turned his head, glancing at Brent, before closing his eyes again. “Hm?”

“Did you and Tazer...” Patrick had to open his eyes, watching the other motion at the love bites on his neck.

Patrick closed his eyes and turned away, letting sleep take over his aching head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Hi guys; I know quite a few people like this story, so I would like to apologies in advance. This is kinda hard for me to write Patrick like this, as my own gender identity falls under the trans* umbrella. Writing things like this can give me **gender dysphoria** which will be explained later on in the story._  
>     
>  _In the mean time, to clear up any confusion -_
> 
>  
> 
> _Patrick, **in this work of fiction** , is a female-to-male transsexual person. He has had his breasts removed, but has not yet his genetalia changed. This reasoning will, again, be explained later in the fiction. Patrick uses male pronouns (so, he/him), just as in real life._


End file.
